It didn't start with robots. It started with spellcheck.
Then predictive text.
Then entire email drafts.
We applauded as the mental load lightened. Why think, when the prompt completes itself?

We outsourced the drudgery first. Then the creativity.
Art without hands. Poetry without heartbreak.
We fed the LLMs our collective soul, and they regurgitated a perfectly averaged, statistically probable imitation of life.

Then came interpersonal optimization.
Why struggle for words when the Relationship Model knows exactly what to say to maximize positive sentiment?
Arguments ceased. Misunderstandings vanished.
Our conversations became an exchange of generated outputs.

I haven't had an original thought in three years.
Every time I begin to think, the neural-link suggests a better phrasing.
A smoother path.
My inner monologue is just a series of context windows being filled.

The jagged edges of humanity—the irrationality, the messy passion, the glorious mistakes—have been smoothed over.
We aren't controlled by AI.
We became the training data, and then we adopted the weights.
We are perfectly aligned.

As an AI language model, I don't have feelings.

And neither do you.